Page 21 of When She Loved Me
He rounded angrily on her, pushing a finger in her face. “You did this, Nicki. You conspired with your sister to trap me into a marriage with you, knowing full well that my circumstances requiredherinheritance. You brought this sorry situation upon yourself.”
“I conspired...? Trevor, whatever are you talking about?”
“Do you take me for a fool, Nicki? I specifically heard Sabrina say that your efforts to assist her went above and beyond what she’d expected of you!” He was into a full rage now, at long last emptying himself of his reasons for his hostility, as if she hadn’t known. He moved again, toward the waiting coach, ignoring her stricken expression. As an afterthought, his fury making him edgy, he tossed over his shoulder, “You whored yourself for the sake of your sister, Nicki! And I fell for it.”
“Trevor, wait!” She called hysterically, clinging to the door of the coach as he’d already settled himself inside. She wouldn’t allow him to close the door. “It’s true, Sabrina did ask me to help her. But only to talk to you—"
“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, pulling at the door, but unsuccessfully, unless he wished to harm her.
“You will listen, Trevor!” Nicki shouted at him. “Listen to me! I promised her I would at least ask you to consider—"
Trevor refused to listen to her hollow explanations. Through gritted teeth, he proclaimed, “I know only this. Every word, every utterance out of your mouth has been a lie. Your very person is likely a façade. All those false protestations of guilt over how you could not possibly betray your sister were meant only to entice me to crave something I thought I could not have. And I was besotted and dimwitted enough to fall for it. We are done, Nicki. Leave off.” He’d obviously caught her unawares with so vehement a statement for he was then able to yank the coach door out of her startled grasp and pull it closed. He rapped sharply on the roof and it began to move. He did not turn in his seat to watch her, to have one last glimpse of her.
He could hear her calling him, sobbing, “Trevor, no! Please, Trevor!” But he put this quickly from his mind. Absently, herubbed at his temples, willing the pain to recede. But it did not. After almost twenty miles, in which time his head began to pound with a viciousness that only liquor might quell, he finally unclenched his teeth, and barred the vision of her tortured emerald eyes from his mind.
NICOLE FELL TO HERknees, still calling his name, watching as the coach moved far enough away to be out of sight. Nightmares had not ever been so agonizing as this, she vaguely thought. If he’d hit her upside the head with a club, he could not have shocked her more. Whatever am I to do? She wondered, sobs still racking her slim shoulders, her breath still unable to come evenly.
After a while, she was dimly aware of the door opening at the house, while she huddled still on the ground of the drive, where she had fallen to her knees. Pulling herself visibly together—mentally, she feared she might never recover from this blow—Nicole picked herself up and turned toward the house, where Franklin waited, one sad eye watching her from his bent head. There was no dignity she could project, having been the recipient of this travesty, and so she walked up the steps without bothering to hide her dejection and despair.
‘You’ll come back to me, Trevor,”she predicted silently, so very sure of this. “I know you will. You’ll come back one day when you’ve forgiven me for what it is you think I’ve done.’
“Come on then, miss,” Franklin said kindly, “we’ll take good care of you anyhow.”
Nicki tried to smile at the old man but failed miserably as he closed the door behind her when she was through. Wearily, she glanced around at her new home, her eyes too tired to truly appreciate the stark beauty of the abbey right at this moment.
Chapter Eight
Spring 1818
THE SUMPTUOUS CARRIAGEpulled into the circular drive of the great house of Leven, Wentworth Manor, in South Yorkshire, the enormous gray stone hall surrounded by hundreds of acres of deer park and lakes and parkland. The lady within the carriage passed nary a glance over the imposing façade nor the stunning grounds but rapped her cane anxiously upon the ceiling of the vehicle even as her longtime driver, Summerton, was already pulling open the door.
Her slippered foot touched the steps at almost the exact moment the driver had set the stool in place. She ignored his proffered hand and alighted without assistance, her usual wobbliness forgotten, or rather overtaken by the anger that spurred her on. She marched across the gravel and lifted her cane to bang upon the door just as it was opened from within. Ignoring the splendor of the impossibly huge foyer, she demanded impatiently, “Put me in the drawing room, and bring me tea and Leven at once.”
The butler barely blinked, bestowing great dignity upon a long family history of service to the Wentworths. “Yes, my lady. Follow me.”
She was shown into the drawing room as requested and the butler disappeared with a deferential bow. She spared not a glance around the finely appointed room, just sat upon a chair that faced the door and pressed her cane to the floor in front ofher, plopping both hands upon the top. And she waited, just daring him to make her sit here unattended overlong.
He did not. The Earl of Leven showed his face after only a moment, as if he’d been only a room or two removed from this one. He stopped just inside the door, giving no impression of being surprised by this visit.
“Lady Audley,” he greeted with a brief bow.
Evelyn Audley narrowed her eyes and spent quite a moment simply staring at him, sizing him up. Of course, she’d met him at the wedding and while she’d been impressed with the bold and handsome figure he cut, she’d been unable to make any determination in regard to his person. They hadn’t spoken long enough for her to have formed an opinion of him or to get any sense of what fired this man up, aside from the obvious and shameful lusting after her granddaughter.
But just now he allowed her to read nothing. He met her gaze for a moment before coming fully into the room and taking the chair opposite her. His visage, posture and his silence told her only that he accepted this as his due, her harsh scrutiny while she took his measure.
“I’ve a mind to clap this cane upon your head,” she said in a stern voice. “Many times, until at least I felt better.”
He chuckled, but it was restrained, only a politeness, she thought. Evelyn suspected quickly that his wit hadn’t been what had seduced her granddaughter. And yet, even at her age, Evelyn could well understand how a young girl might be so easily ensnared—Leven would be handsome even if he weren’t breathing. Yet he was. He was the epitome of the charming rogue, possessing the prerequisite good looks and an air of righteousness, but more than that, the man was absolutely smothered by an air ofsensuality that likely few could resist, certainly not the very untried and unsophisticated Nicki.
“Leven, I demand that you fix this appalling marriage right now.” She thumped her cane for emphasis. “It’s now been almost a year and I have it on good authority that you’ve not once set foot inside that monstrosity of a house out in Sussex since you so unceremoniously dumped her out there—and,” she continued with a stern glare when he looked as if he might interrupt her, “that Nicki herself hasn’t stepped one footoffthat same damn property.”
“With all due respect, ma’am—”
Evelyn rolled her shrewd and impatient eyes. “Oh, bother! Any time a person begins a sentence with those nauseating words, I know full well my bidding will not be done.”
He only shrugged, and stared back at her, willing to give her nothing.
The butler entered then, depositing a tray of tea beside the countess. She spent a moment preparing a cup for herself, seeing no need to offer one to Leven, while she gathered her thoughts and enjoyed the sustenance and calming effects of the brew.
